HYMN TO DEMETER

Translated by Hugh G.Evelyn-White

published 1914, Loeb Classical Library

[Note: This Homeric Hymn, composed in approximately the
seventh century BCE, served for centuries thereafter as the canonical hymn
of the Eleusinian Mysteries.
The text below was translated from the Greek by Hugh G.
Evelyn-White and first published by the Loeb Classical Library in 1914.
This text has been scanned and proof-read by Edward A. Beach, Department
of Philosophy and Religious Studies, University of Wisconsin-Eau Claire.]

I begin to sing of rich-haired Demeter, awful goddess -- of her
and her trim-ankled daughter whom Aidoneus [Hades] rapt away,
given to him by all-seeing Zeus the loud-thunderer. Apart from
Demeter, lady of the golden sword and glorious fruits, she was
playing with the deep-bosomed daughters of Oceanus and gathering
flowers over a soft meadow, roses and crocuses and beautiful violets,
irises also and hyacinths and the narcissus which Earth made to
grow at the will of Zeus and to please the Host of Many, to be
a snare for the bloom-like girl -- a marvellous, radiant flower.
It was a thing of awe whether for deathless gods or mortal men
to see: from its root grew a hundred blooms and it smelled most
sweetly, so that all wide heaven above and the whole earth and
the sea's salt swell laughed for joy. And the girl was amazed
and reached out with both hands to take the lovely toy; but the
wide-pathed earth yawned there in the plain of Nysa, and the lord,
Host of Many, with his immortal horses sprang out upon her --
the Son of Cronos, He who has many names.[1]

He caught her up reluctant on his golden car and bare her away
lamenting. Then she cried out shrilly with her voice, calling
upon her father, the Son of Cronos, who is most high and excellent.
But no one, either of the deathless gods or of mortal men, heard
her voice, nor yet the olive-trees bearing rich fruit: only tenderhearted
Hecate, bright-coiffed, the daughter of Persaeus, heard the girl
from her cave, and the lord Helios, Hyperion's bright son, as
she cried to her father, the Son of Cronos. But he was sitting
aloof, apart from the gods, in his temple where many pray, and
receiving sweet offerings from mortal men. So he, that Son of
Cronos, of many names, who is Ruler of Many and Host of Many,
was bearing her away by leave of Zeus on his immortal chariot
-- his own brother's child and all unwilling.

[Line 33] And so long as she, the goddess, yet beheld earth
and starry heaven and the strong-flowing sea where fishes shoal,
and the rays of the sun, and still hoped to see her dear mother
and the tribes of the eternal gods, so long hope calmed her great
heart for all her trouble. . . . and the heights of the mountains
and the depths of the sea rang with her immortal voice: and her
queenly mother heard her.

Bitter pain seized her heart, and she rent the covering upon her
divine hair with her dear hands: her dark cloak she cast down
from both her shoulders and sped, like a wild-bird, over the firm
land and yielding sea, seeking her child. But no one would tell
her the truth, neither god nor mortal man; and of the birds of
omen none came with true news for her. Then for nine days queenly
Deo wandered over the earth with flaming torches in her hands,
so grieved that she never tasted ambrosia and the sweet draught
of nectar, nor sprinkled her body with water. But when the tenth
enlightening dawn had come, Hecate, with a torch in her hands,
met her, and spoke to her and told her news:

"Queenly Demeter, bringer of seasons and giver of good gifts,
what god of heaven or what mortal man has rapt away Persephone
and pierced with sorrow your dear heart? For I heard her voice,
yet saw not with my eyes who it was. But I tell you truly and
shortly all I know."

[Line 59] So, then, said Hecate. And the daughter of rich-haired
Rhea answered her not, but sped swiftly with her, holding flaming
torches in her hands. So they came to Helios, who is watchman
of both gods and men, and stood in front of his horses: and the
bright goddess enquired of him: "Helios, do you at least
regard me, goddess as I am, if ever by word or deed of mine I
have cheered your heart and spirit. Through the fruitless air
I heard the thrilling cry of my daughter whom I bare, sweet scion
of my body and lovely in form, as of one seized violently; though
with my eyes I saw nothing. But you -- for with your beams you
look down from the bright upper air over all the earth and sea
-- tell me truly of my dear child if you have seen her anywhere,
what god or mortal man has violently seized her against her will
and mine, and so made off."

So said she. And the Son of Hyperion answered her: "Queen
Demeter, daughter of rich-haired Rhea, I will tell you the truth;
for I greatly reverence and pity you in your grief for your trim-ankled
daughter. None other of the deathless gods is to blame, but only
cloud-gathering Zeus who gave her to Hades, her father's brother,
to be called his buxom wife. And Hades seized her and took her
loudly crying in his chariot down to his realm of mist and gloom.
Yet, goddess, cease your loud lament and keep not vain anger unrelentingly:
Aidoneus, the Ruler of Many, is no unfitting husband among the
deathless gods for your child, being our own brother and born
of the same stock: also, for honour, he has that third share which
he received when division was made at the first and is appointed
lord of those among whom he dwells."

So he spake, and called to his horses: and at his chiding they
quickly whirled the swift chariot along, like long-winged birds.

[Line 90] But grief yet more terrible and savage came into
the heart of Demeter, and thereafter she was so angered with the
dark-clouded Son of Cronos that she avoided the gathering of the
gods and high Olympus, and went to the towns and rich fields of
men, disfiguring her form a long while. And no one of men or deep-bosomed
women knew her when they saw her, until she came to the house
of wise Celeus who then was lord of fragrant Eleusis. Vexed in
her dear heart, she sat near the wayside by the Maiden Well, from
which the women of the place were used to draw water, in a shady
place over which grew an olive shrub. And she was like an ancient
woman who is cut off from childbearing and the gifts of garland-loving
Aphrodite, like the nurses of king's children who deal justice,
or like the house-keepers in their echoing halls. There the daughters
of Celeus, son of Eleusis, saw her, as they coming for easy-drawn
water, to carry it in pitchers of bronze to their dear father's
house: four were they and like goddesses in the flower of their
girlhood, Callidice and Cleisidice and lovely Demo and Callithoe
who was the eldest of them all. They knew her not, -- for the
gods are not easily discerned by mortals --, but startling near
by her spoke winged words:

"Old mother, whence are you of folk born long ago? Why are
you gone away from the city and do not draw near the houses? For
there in the shady halls are women of just such age as you, and
others younger; and they would welcome you both by word and by
deed."

[Line 118] Thus they said. And she, that queen among goddesses
answered them saying: "Hail, dear children, whosoever you
are of woman-kind. I will tell you my story; for it is not unseemly
that I should tell you truly what you ask. Doso is my name, for
my stately mother gave it me. And now I am come from Crete over
the sea's wide back, -- not willingly; but pirates brought me
thence by force of strength against my liking. Afterwards they
put in with their swift craft to Thoricus, and these the women
landed on the shore in full throng and the men likewise, and they
began to make ready a meal by the stern-cables of the ship. But
my heart craved not pleasant food, and I fled secretly across
the dark country and escaped my masters, that they should not
take me unpurchased across the sea, there to win a price for me.
And so I wandered and am come here: and I know not at all what
land this is or what people are in it. But may all those who dwell
on Olympus give you husbands and birth of children as parents
desire, so you take pity on me, maidens, and show me this clearly
that I may learn, dear children, to the house of what man and
woman I may go, to work for them cheerfully at such tasks as belong
to a woman of my age. Well could I nurse a new born child, holding
him in my arms, or keep house, or spread my masters' bed in a
recess of the well-built chamber, or teach the women their work."

So said the goddess. And straightway the unwed maiden Callidice,
goodliest in form of the daughters of Celeus, answered her and
said:

[Line 147] "Mother, what the gods send us, we
mortals bear perforce, although we suffer; for they are much stronger
than we. But now I will teach you clearly, telling you the names of men
who have great power and honour here and are chief among the people,
guarding our city's coif of towers by their wisdom and true judgements:
there is wise Triptolemus and Dioclus and Polyxeinus and blameless
Eumolpus and Dolichus and our own brave father. All these have wives
who manage in the house, and no one of them, so soon as she had seen
you, would dishonour you and turn you from the house, but they will
welcome you; for indeed you are godlike. But if you will, stay here;
and we will go to our father's house and tell Metaneira, our
deep-bosomed mother, all this matter fully, that she may bid you rather
come to our home than search after the houses of others. She has an
only son, late-born, who is being nursed in our well-built house, a
child of many prayers and welcome: if you could bring him up until he
reached the full measure of youth, any one of womankind who should see
you would straightway envy you, such gifts would our mother give for
his upbringing."

So she spake: and the goddess bowed her head in assent. And they
filled their shining vessels with water and carried them off rejoicing.
Quickly they came to their father's great house and straightway
told their mother according as they had heard and seen. Then she
bade them go with all speed and invite the stranger to come for
a measureless hire. As hinds or heifers in spring time, when sated
with pasture, bound about a meadow, so they, holding up the folds
of their lovely garments, darted down the hollow path, and their
hair like a crocus flower streamed about their shoulders. And
they found the good goddess near the wayside where they had left
her before, and led her to the house of their dear father. And
she walked behind, distressed in her dear heart, with her head
veiled and wearing a dark cloak which waved about the slender
feet of the goddess.

[Line 184] Soon they came to the house of heaven-nurtured
Celeus and went through the portico to where their queenly mother
sat by a pillar of the close-fitted roof, holding her son, a tender
scion, in her bosom. And the girls ran to her. But the goddess
walked to the threshold: and her head reached the roof and she
filled the doorway with a heavenly radiance. Then awe and reverence
and pale fear took hold of Metaneira, and she rose up from her
couch before Demeter, and bade her be seated. But Demeter, bringer
of seasons and giver of perfect gifts, would not sit upon the
bright couch, but stayed silent with lovely eyes cast down until
careful Iambe placed a jointed seat for her and threw over it
a silvery fleece. Then she sat down and held her veil in her hands
before her face. A long time she sat upon the stool[2]
without speaking because of her sorrow, and greeted no one by
word or by sign, but rested, never smiling, and tasting neither
food nor drinks because she pined with longing for her deep-bosomed
daughter, until careful Iambe -- who pleased her moods in aftertime
also -- moved the holy lady with many a quip and jest to smile
and laugh and cheer her heart. Then Metaneira filled a cup with
sweet wine and offered it to her; but she refused it, for she
said it was not lawful for her to drink red wine, but bade them
mix meal and water with soft mint and give her to drink. And Metaneira
mixed the draught and gave it to the goddess as she bade. So the
great queen Deo received it to observe the sacrament.[3]

[Line 212] And of them all, well-girded Metaneira first
began to speak: "Hail, lady! For I think you are not meanly
but nobly born; truly dignity and grace are conspicuous upon your
eyes as in the eyes of kings that deal justice. Yet we mortals
bear per-force what the gods send us, though we be grieved; for
a yoke is set upon our necks. But now, since you are come here,
you shall have what I can bestow: and nurse me this child whom
the gods gave me in my old age and beyond my hope, a son much
prayed for. If you should bring him up until he reach the full
measure of youth, any one of woman-kind that sees you will straightway
envy you, so great reward would I give for his upbringing."

Then rich-haired Demeter answered her: "And to you, also,
lady, all hail, and may the gods give you good! Gladly will I
take the boy to my breast, as you bid me, and will nurse him.
Never, I ween, through any heedlessness of his nurse shall witchcraft
hurt him nor yet the Undercutter: for I know a charm far stronger
than the Woodcutter, and I know an excellent safeguard against
woeful witchcraft."[4]

When she had so spoken, she took the child in her fragrant bosom
with her divine hands: and his mother was glad in her heart. So
the goddess nursed in the palace Demophoon, wise Celeus' goodly
son whom well-girded Metaneira bare. And the child grew like some
immortal being, not fed with food nor nourished at the breast:
for by day rich-crowned Demeter would anoint him with ambrosia
as if he were the offspring of a god and breathe sweetly upon
him as she held him in her bosom. But at night she would hide
him like a brand in the heart of the fire, unknown to his dear
parents. And it wrought great wonder in these that he grew beyond
his age; for he was like the gods face to face. And she would
have made him deathless and unaging, had not well-girded Metaneira
in her heedlessness kept watch by night from her sweet-smelling
chamber and spied. But she wailed and smote her two hips, because
she feared for her son and was greatly distraught in her heart;
so she lamented and uttered winged words:

[Line 248] "Demophoon, my son, the strange woman buries
you deep in fire and works grief and bitter sorrow for me."

Thus she spoke, mourning. And the bright goddess, lovely-crowned
Demeter, heard her, and was wroth with her. So with her divine
hands she snatched from the fire the dear son whom Metaneira had
born unhoped-for in the palace, and cast him from her to the ground;
for she was terribly angry in her heart. Forthwith she said to
well-girded Metaneira:

"Witless are you mortals and dull to foresee your lot, whether
of good or evil, that comes upon you. For now in your heedlessness
you have wrought folly past healing; for -- be witness the oath
of the gods, the relentless water of Styx -- I would have made
your dear son deathless and unaging all his days and would have
bestowed on him ever-lasting honour, but now he can in no way
escape death and the fates. Yet shall unfailing honour always
rest upon him, because he lay upon my knees and slept in my arms.
But, as the years move round and when he is in his prime, the
sons of the Eleusinians shall ever wage war and dread strife with
one another continually. Lo! I am that Demeter who has share of
honour and is the greatest help and cause of joy to the undying
gods and mortal men. But now, let all the people build me a great
temple and an altar below it and beneath the city and its sheer
wall upon a rising hillock above Callichorus. And I myself will
teach my rites, that hereafter you may reverently perform them
and so win the favour of my heart."

[Line 275] When she had so said, the goddess changed her
stature and her looks, thrusting old age away from her: beauty
spread round about her and a lovely fragrance was wafted from
her sweet-smelling robes, and from the divine body of the goddess
a light shone afar, while golden tresses spread down over her
shoulders, so that the strong house was filled with brightness
as with lightning. And so she went out from the palace.

And straightway Metaneira's knees were loosed and she remained
speechless for a long while and did not remember to take up her
late-born son from the ground. But his sisters heard his pitiful
wailing and sprang down from their well-spread beds: one of them
took up the child in her arms and laid him in her bosom, while
another revived the fire, and a third rushed with soft feet to
bring their mother from her fragrant chamber. And they gathered
about the struggling child and washed him, embracing him lovingly;
but he was not comforted, because nurses and handmaids much less
skillful were holding him now.

All night long they sought to appease the glorious goddess, quaking
with fear. But, as soon as dawn began to show, they told powerful
Celeus all things without fail, as the lovely-crowned goddess
Demeter charged them. So Celeus called the countless people to
an assembly and bade them make a goodly temple for rich-haired
Demeter and an altar upon the rising hillock. And they obeyed
him right speedily and harkened to his voice, doing as he commanded.
As for the child, he grew like an immortal being.

[Line 301] Now when they had finished building and had
drawn back from their toil, they went every man to his house.
But golden-haired Demeter sat there apart from all the blessed
gods and stayed, wasting with yearning for her deep-bosomed daughter.
Then she caused a most dreadful and cruel year for mankind over
the all-nourishing earth: the ground would not make the seed sprout,
for rich-crowned Demeter kept it hid. In the fields the oxen drew
many a curved plough in vain, and much white barley was cast upon
the land without avail. So she would have destroyed the whole
race of man with cruel famine and have robbed them who dwell on
Olympus of their glorious right of gifts and sacrifices, had not
Zeus perceived and marked this in his heart. First he sent golden-winged
Iris to call rich-haired Demeter, lovely in form. So he commanded.
And she obeyed the dark-clouded Son of Cronos, and sped with swift
feet across the space between. She came to the stronghold of fragrant
Eleusis, and there finding dark-cloaked Demeter in her temple,
spake to her and uttered winged words:

"Demeter, father Zeus, whose wisdom is everlasting, calls
you to come join the tribes of the eternal gods: come therefore,
and let not the message I bring from Zeus pass unobeyed."

Thus said Iris imploring her. But Demeter's heart was not moved.
Then again the father sent forth all the blessed and eternal gods
besides: and they came, one after the other, and kept calling
her and offering many very beautiful gifts and whatever rights
she might be pleased to choose among the deathless gods. Yet no
one was able to persuade her mind and will, so wroth was she in
her heart; but she stubbornly rejected all their words: for she
vowed that she would never set foot on fragrant Olympus nor let
fruit spring out of the ground, until she beheld with her eyes
her own fair-faced daughter.

[Line 334] Now when all-seeing Zeus the loud-thunderer
heard this, he sent the Slayer of Argus whose wand is of gold
to Erebus, so that having won over Hades with soft words, he might
lead forth chaste Persephone to the light from the misty gloom
to join the gods, and that her mother might see her with her eyes
and cease from her anger. And Hermes obeyed, and leaving the house
of Olympus, straightway sprang down with speed to the hidden places
of the earth. And he found the lord Hades in his house seated
upon a couch, and his shy mate with him, much reluctant, because
she yearned for her mother. But she was afar off, brooding on
her fell design because of the deeds of the blessed gods. And
the strong Slayer of Argus drew near and said:

"Dark-haired Hades, ruler over the departed, father Zeus
bids me bring noble Persephone forth from Erebus unto the gods,
that her mother may see her with her eyes and cease from her dread
anger with the immortals; for now she plans an awful deed, to
destroy the weakly tribes of earthborn men by keeping seed hidden
beneath the earth, and so she makes an end of the honours of the
undying gods. For she keeps fearful anger and does not consort
with the gods, but sits aloof in her fragrant temple, dwelling
in the rocky hold of Eleusis."

So he said. And Aidoneus, ruler over the dead, smiled grimly and
obeyed the behest of Zeus the king. For he straightway urged wise
Persephone, saying:

[Line 360] "Go now, Persephone, to your dark-robed
mother, go, and feel kindly in your heart towards me: be not so
exceedingly cast down; for I shall be no unfitting husband for
you among the deathless gods, that am own brother to father Zeus.
And while you are here, you shall rule all that lives and moves
and shall have the greatest rights among the deathless gods: those
who defraud you and do not appease your power with offerings,
reverently performing rites and paying fit gifts, shall be punished
for evermore."

When he said this, wise Persephone was filled with joy and hastily
sprang up for gladness. But he on his part secretly gave her sweet
pomegranate seed to eat, taking care for himself that she might
not remain continually with grave, dark-robed Demeter. Then Aidoneus
the Ruler of Many openly got ready his deathless horses beneath
the golden chariots And she mounted on the chariot and the strong
Slayer of Argus took reins and whip in his dear hands and drove
forth from the hall, the horses speeding readily. Swiftly they
traversed their long course, and neither the sea nor river-waters
nor grassy glens nor mountain-peaks checked the career of the
immortal horses, but they clave the deep air above them as they
went. And Hermes brought them to the place where rich-crowned
Demeter was staying and checked them before her fragrant temple.

[Line 384] And when Demeter saw them, she rushed forth
as does a Maenad down some thick-wooded mountain, while Persephone
on the other side, when she saw her mother's sweet eyes, left
the chariot and horses, and leaped down to run to her, and falling
upon her neck, embraced her. But while Demeter was still holding
her dear child in her arms, her heart suddenly misgave her for
some snare, so that she feared greatly and ceased fondling her
daughter and asked of her at once: "My child, tell me, surely
you have not tasted any food while you were below? Speak out and
hide nothing, but let us both know. For if you have not, you shall
come back from loathly Hades and live with me and your father,
the dark-clouded Son of Cronos and be honoured by all the deathless
gods; but if you have tasted food, you must go back again beneath
the secret places of the earth, there to dwell a third part of
the seasons every year: yet for the two parts you shall be with
me and the other deathless gods. But when the earth shall bloom
with the fragrant flowers of spring in every kind, then from the
realm of darkness and gloom thou shalt come up once more to be
a wonder for gods and mortal men. And now tell me how he rapt
you away to the realm of darkness and gloom, and by what trick
did the strong Host of Many beguile you?"

[Line 405] Then beautiful Persephone answered her thus:
"Mother, I will tell you all without error. When luck-bringing
Hermes came, swift messenger from my father the Son of Cronos
and the other Sons of Heaven, bidding me come back from Erebus
that you might see me with your eyes and so cease from your anger
and fearful wrath against the gods, I sprang up at once for joy;
but he secretly put in my mouth sweet food, a pomegranate seed,
and forced me to taste against my will. Also I will tell how he
rapt me away by the deep plan of my father the Son of Cronos and
carried me off beneath the depths of the earth, and will relate
the whole matter as you ask. All we were playing in a lovely meadow,
Leucippe and Phaeno and Electra and Ianthe, Melita also and Iache
with Rhodea and Callirhoe and Melobosis and Tyche and Ocyrhoe,
fair as a flower, Chryseis, Ianeira, Acaste and Admete and Rhodope
and Pluto and charming Calypso; Styx too was there and Urania
and lovely Galaxaura with Pallas who rouses battles and Artemis
delighting in arrows.[5] We were playing
and gathering sweet flowers in our hands, soft crocuses mingled
with irises and hyacinths, and rose-blooms and lilies, marvellous
to see, and the narcissus which the wide earth caused to grow
yellow as a crocus. That I plucked in my joy; but the earth parted
beneath, and there the strong lord, the Host of Many, sprang forth
and in his golden chariot he bore me away, all unwilling, beneath
the earth: then I cried with a shrill cry. All this is true, sore
though it grieves me to tell the tale."

[Line 434] So did they then, with hearts at one, greatly
cheer each the other's soul and spirit with many an embrace: their
hearts had relief from their griefs while each took and gave back
joyousness.

Then bright-coiffed Hecate came near to them, and often did she
embrace the daughter of holy Demeter: and from that time the lady
Hecate was minister and companion to Persephone.

And all-seeing Zeus sent a messenger to them, rich-haired Rhea,
to bring dark-cloaked Demeter to join the families of the gods:
and he promised to give her what rights she should choose among
the deathless gods and agreed that her daughter should go down
for the third part of the circling year to darkness and gloom,
but for the two parts should live with her mother and the other
deathless gods. Thus he commanded. And the goddess did not disobey
the message of Zeus; swiftly she rushed down from the peaks of
Olympus and came to the plain of Rharus, rich, fertile corn-land
once, but then in nowise fruitful, for it lay idle and utterly
leafless, because the white grain was hidden by design of trim-ankled
Demeter. But afterwards, as spring-time waxed, it was soon to
be waving with long ears of corn, and its rich furrows to be loaded
with grain upon the ground, while others would already be bound
in sheaves. There first she landed from the fruitless upper air:
and glad were the goddesses to see each other and cheered in heart.
Then bright-coiffed Rhea said to Demeter:

[Line 459] "Come, my daughter; for far-seeing Zeus
the loud-thunderer calls you to join the families of the gods,
and has promised to give you what rights you please among the
deathless gods, and has agreed that for a third part of the circling
year your daughter shall go down to darkness and gloom, but for
the two parts shall be with you and the other deathless gods:
so has he declared it shall be and has bowed his head in token.
But come, my child, obey, and be not too angry unrelentingly with
the dark-clouded Son of Cronos; but rather increase forthwith
for men the fruit that gives them life."

So spake Rhea. And rich-crowned Demeter did not refuse but straightway
made fruit to spring up from the rich lands, so that the whole
wide earth was laden with leaves and flowers. Then she went, and
to the kings who deal justice, Triptolemus and Diocles, the horse-driver,
and to doughty Eumolpus and Celeus, leader of the people, she
showed the conduct of her rites and taught them all her mysteries,
to Triptolemus and Polyxeinus and Diocles also, -- awful mysteries
which no one may in any way transgress or pry into or utter, for
deep awe of the gods checks the voice. Happy is he among men upon
earth who has seen these mysteries; but he who is uninitiate and
who has no part in them, never has lot of like good things once
he is dead, down in the darkness and gloom.

[Line 483] But when the bright goddess had taught them
all, they went to Olympus to the gathering of the other gods.
And there they dwell beside Zeus who delights in thunder, awful
and reverend goddesses. Right blessed is he among men on earth
whom they freely love: soon they do send Plutus as guest to his
great house, Plutus who gives wealth to mortal men.

And now, queen of the land of sweet Eleusis and sea-girt Paros
and rocky Antron, lady, giver of good gifts, bringer of seasons,
queen Deo, be gracious, you and your daughter all beauteous Persephone,
and for my song grant me heart-cheering substance. And now I will
remember you and another song also.

Notes

[1] The Greeks feared to name Pluto directly
and mentioned him by one of many descriptive titles, such as "Host
of Many": compare the Christian use of diabolos or
our "Evil One."

[2] Demeter chooses the lowlier seat, supposedly
as being more suitable to her assumed condition, but really because
in her sorrow she refuses all comforts.

[3] An act of communion -- the drinking of
the potion (kykeon) here described -- was one of the most
important pieces of ritual in the Eleusinian mysteries, as commemorating
the sorrows of the goddess.

[4] Undercutter and Woodcutter are probably
popular names (after the style of Hesiod's "Boneless One")
for the worm thought to be the cause of teething and toothache.

[5] The list of names is taken -- with five
additions -- from Hesiod, Theogony 349 ff.